


And we'll dance together

by often_adamanta



Series: Happily Ever Asexual [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Katsuki Yuuri, Dancing, First Dates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 00:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13446960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/often_adamanta/pseuds/often_adamanta
Summary: Victor hasideasabout the dates he’s going to take Yuuri on once they have a spare moment, but it’s the middle of a competitive season, and they haven’t had the time.





	And we'll dance together

**Author's Note:**

> This will make a lot more sense if you read the series in order.

“Yuuri?” Victor calls as he tentatively pushes the door open to Minako’s studio. The front entryway is empty, low music from the main space all that greets him. He takes his shoes off, lining them up carefully next to Yuuri’s. 

Yuuri had asked him to come, which was unusual. The studio is firmly Minako’s space, and Victor tries to respect that, mostly because it’s one of the few places Yuuri goes to feel safe. Victor obviously can’t avoid the rink, and so he absents himself from the dance studio to give Yuuri a place to escape. 

He finds Yuuri at the barre, dressed quite differently than the old workout clothes he’d been wearing when they’d had dinner earlier after their afternoon skate practice. Yuuri’s thighs flex as he raises one leg in a stretch, sock clad foot resting gracefully against the barre. The white button down tightens across his shoulders as his arms drape forward. Given the stretch in the fabric, it’s an outfit made for dancing, although not one Victor has seen before. 

Yuuri straightens up and meets his eyes in the mirror. He drops his leg and spins to face Victor, a graceful move that draws Victor’s gaze. 

Victor smiles and crosses the room. “Yuuri, you look so cute!” he says, stopping just outside of touching range and watching Yuuri duck his head slightly at the compliment. “What’s the occasion?”

“Ah,” Yuuri says. “You said… dancing.” He looks unreasonably nervous, and it honestly takes Victor a moment to follow that single word back to their conversation in China. 

Victor gasps. “Yuuri! Are we going on a date?” 

Victor has _ideas_ about the dates he’s going to take Yuuri on once they have a spare moment, but it’s the middle of a competitive season, and they haven’t had time for more than occasionally falling into the same bed, exhausted, to sleep curled up around each other. 

“Well, we’re not actually going anywhere,” Yuuri says, apologetically. “But I thought…” 

“Whatever you want,” Victor says when Yuuri stutters into silence. 

All Yuuri’s nerves seem to fall away at Victor’s reassurance. “Victor,” Yuuri says, “You look very pretty.” 

Victor’s breath catches. He’s been fighting down discomfort with his own appearance since he saw Yuuri, gorgeous and posed against the barre. He’s in loose workout clothes, and his hair is windblown. He’s not wearing a fraction of the makeup he’d have applied if he’d known this was going to be a date. 

He’s never heard anyone say those words with such sincerity. 

He opens his mouth to flirt back, but it’s as if all the smoothness has been knocked out of him, because, “You mean it?” falls out of his mouth. 

“Of course,” Yuuri says. “You always look perfect.” 

Yuuri takes his hand and guides him into the center of the room. A brief lull settles into the air as the music changes song. Yuuri’s hands are warm as he places one on Victor’s hip, the other curving around his ribcage to rest against his back, and pulls Victor into his arms. 

The music picks up, easy and smooth. Victor follows Yuuri’s lead and soon they’re sweeping through a gentle waltz. Yuuri’s forte is ballet, but he’s clearly had training in ballroom because his form is perfect. Victor’s own keeps breaking, the circle of his arms too soft and too close, straining forward with the need to touch. 

The corner of Yuuri’s mouth quirks up every time they end up pressed together, but he doesn’t say anything or try to correct Victor’s technique. 

Victor had not - quite - forgotten himself at the banquet, no matter how captivating Yuuri had been. He’d allowed himself to dance and get swept away, but the eyes of the crowd around them and the pinpoint flashes of the cameras had never left his awareness. 

Now, no one is watching, and Victor can let himself get wrapped up completely in Yuuri’s embrace.  
His eyes drift shut, and he concentrates on the shift of Yuuri’s body against his own, savoring Yuuri’s strength as he leads Victor around the room. 

The song flows into another with the same slow and steady beat. Victor moves his hand to rest against Yuuri’s chest, the rhythm of his heart fast against his palm. 

“I imagined this,” Yuuri whispers, voice hardly audible above the music. 

Victor keeps his eyes closed, desperate to hear more. He had imagined it, too, in the empty months after the last Grand Prix Final banquet as he waited with slowly dying hope for Yuuri to reach out to him. 

“You did a flamenco exhibition skate,” Yuuri continues.

When he lapses into silence, Victor offers, “My third season in seniors. I was trying to improve my step sequences.”

“It was beautiful,” Yuuri says, breathlessly sincere, and Victor’s own breath catches. 

The music shifts into something faster and darker than before, and Yuuri snaps into a tango, sharp and close.

Victor opens his eyes as his body adjusts to the new dance to find Yuuri watching him intently. His cheeks have a slight flush that could be written off as exertion if Victor didn’t know full well the limits of Yuuri’s body. He knows his own pale skin wears a matching blush as he catches and holds Yuuri’s stare. 

Their movements are faster now, staccato steps with long, lingering pauses. Yuuri pulls him in close whenever the dance draw them apart and holds him, fingers firm against Victor’s hips, their bodies pressed together.

Victor draws his hands from Yuuri’s shoulders down to his waist, Yuuri’s rib cage expanding against Victor’s palms.

He leans in. At the last second, he catches Yuuri’s eyes widening, too late to stop, and continues forward to rest his forehead against Yuuri’s. He takes a deep breath and holds it, waiting to see if he’s accidentally crossed one of Yuuri’s boundaries. 

“Oh,” Yuuri exhales, and Victor can feel the air against his own lips. Yuuri relaxes into the gesture, fingers tightening as if to keep Victor in place. 

“You can kiss me, you know,” Yuuri says when they draw apart. 

Victor smiles and presses his lips to the place where their foreheads had touched. “Good to know,” he says, watching Yuuri blush a little deeper. 

He’s going to savor that knowledge, that their kiss on the ice in China won’t be the only one, but for now, there’s no need. He can’t imagine feeling closer to Yuuri in this moment.

Victor moves suddenly, shifting his stance so that he’s the one in the lead. Yuuri laughs and follows easily, even when Victor breaks into the more complicated and dramatic steps. 

He grins, and when their bodies are brought together again by the music, Victor lingers in the pose and whispers, “Best first date ever.” 

Yuuri ducks his head and spins away, but he lets Victor reel him back in again. 

“Me, too,” Yuuri whispers back, a smile tugging shyly at the corners of his mouth. “Definitely my best date, too.”


End file.
